


I Don't Know How To Love Him

by Earth_Phoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, I Don't Know How To Love Him, Insecurity, Inspired by Music, Jesus Christ Superstar - Freeform, M/M, Musicals, POV Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Teenage Tom Riddle, Tom Has Feelings, Tom Is A Sweetheart, Tom Riddle is a Sweetheart, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: Inspired by the song of the same name.One night, Tom tries to work about his feelings towards Harry.Rated 'M' for sexual thoughts and musings.





	I Don't Know How To Love Him

_I don't know how to love him,_

_What to do, how to move him._

It wasn’t love, Tom told himself firmly. He ran a hand through Harry’s silky, soft black hair. He wasn’t sure why he kept coming back to Harry at night. Why he allowed himself to slip into Harry’s warm bed, allowed Harry’s head to rest on his chest.

Lucius Malfoy had given his dairy to a muggle and Tom had feed on him, consumed him and had finally regained himself. He was alive and young once more.

The only downside was that he was still only sixteen. He needed to finish his final school year if he wanted to be a strong as his older self became. Lucius had attempted to send him to Hogwarts under a different name and it could have worked, if not for Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew who he was and for a moment Tom had wondered if he would be heading to Azkaban.

Harry had interrupted the tense meeting. He had stood behind Tom, laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder and announced that he would be responsible for young Dark Lord. His green eyes had flashed dangerously when Dumbledore had tried to talk to boy out of it. Harry would have none of it.

Harry shifted in his sleep, a small smile on his face. Tom held his breath, afraid of waking him. He was in over his head, just what had he gotten himself into?

_I've been changed, yes, really changed._

_In these past few days when I've seen myself_

_I seem like someone else._

In the months since Tom to returned, he had been introduced to Harry’s friends. Harry’s fierce loyalty and protectiveness carried him through the school year. Tom could start to feel the stirring of long forgotten emotions.

He had never had a friend before. There were people that called themselves his friends, but he never felt anything for them. People were just objects to use, to manipulate. People were just meat bags, and Tom was more than willing to make use of that.

Harry was different. Harry would look him in the eye and wasn’t afraid – didn’t even think twice about grabbing his hand and dragging him into a corner to study.

He was changing, Harry’s friendship was changing him. For the first time in his life, someone wanted to be his friend and didn’t expect anything in return. Harry wanted to be his friend because Harry liked him. Trusted him even.

_I don't know how to take this_

_I don't see why he moves me._

For the first time, Tom felt afraid. Just who was this boy? Harry was nothing special. The boy was average across the board.

He was pretty, sure, but plenty of people were pretty and he destroyed them all. His father had been considered handsome and Tom had murdered him.

Pretty people were easy to exploit, and Tom often thought he could, perhaps, exploit Harry, in time. But then the boy would turn to him, smile at him, those emerald green eyes would look at him. It was if Harry could see into this fractured soul.

Maybe that was why he felt so different, so changed. He wanted to prove himself worthy.

_He's a man, he's just a man._

_And I've had so many men before_

_In very many ways: He's just one more_

Tom had had lovers before. Plenty even, not because he was practically interested in sex. As a matter of fact, he would much prefer to watch paint dry than engage in sex.

Sex was a weapon though and Tom embraced all weapons at his disposal.

He could remember the first time he had slept with another person. They had wanted to cuddle, to talk, to be _romantic_. It disgusted him, but it was useful. People let the guards down during and after the act. He could get information out of someone and then whisper a soft Avada Kedavra to them, to keep their mouths closed.

Harry? Harry wasn’t even his lover. Hadn’t demanded Tom’s body or made advances. He had just accepted him.

Tom wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that.

_Should I bring him down?_

_Should I scream and shout?_

_Should I speak of love - let my feelings out?_

_I never thought I'd come to this - what's it all about?_

Tom didn’t see Harry as threat parse, because no one was an actual threat to him, especially a child like Harry _sodding_ Potter.

He wanted to hurt Harry. He could write to the Prophet, he could turn his little friends against him. It had been done before. The school didn’t always love Harry, they were quick to turn on him. He could make the school hate him again, watch as Harry curled in on himself, broken. Utterly and completely destroyed. 

He could do that.

He wanted to do that.

He glanced down at the figure sleeping peacefully on his chest.

No, no he couldn’t.

_Don't you think it's rather funny_

_I should be in this position?_

I am in control, he told himself firmly. I am in control of my emotions; my emotions are not in control of me.

I do not want to wake Harry up and kiss him. No. Not even slightly.

Control. I have _control_.

_I'm the one who's always been_

_So calm, so cool, no lover's fool_

_Running every show_

_He scares me so._

When his fellow students had begun to pair off he had never understood it. They cuddled, giggled, stopped studying – and for what? Stolen kisses out of sight of teachers? Crying over a break up?

Falling in ‘love’ was _pathetic_. He was logical. Cynical to a point. He would never succumb to insanity of _love_.

Not even when Harry looked at him with those eyes.

Merlin damnit. He was stronger than this. He was not _weak_.

Maybe if he left Hogwarts and ran away. Away from Harry, away from weakness.

Harry had vouched for him however, he couldn’t just _leave_. Could he?

_Yet, if he said he loved me_

_I'd be lost, I'd be frightened._

Harry yawned, lifting his head to look tiredly at Tom. “Why are you still awake?” Harry looked over his shoulder at the clock, squinting. “It’s 4am.” Harry give him a pointed look.

“You’re awake.” Tom pointed out.

“I have to pee.” So, saying, Harry slipped from the bed and padded softly towards the bathroom.

Tom was not watching Harry’s arse as he walked away. Nope, he was above that.

Maybe, he could admit he liked Harry. A little. Harry was charming and kind and nice to him.

Harry could never like him back. He was soul fragment. He was alive, because he took a life. How could Harry ever like that? Harry was put up with him because he was stupid Gryffindor that believed people deserved second chances. Harry was a _fool_.

_I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope._

_I'd turn my head, I'd back away,_

_I wouldn't want to know_

_He scares me so._

Harry slipped back into bed and stared hard at Tom. “Have you even slept? You look like you’ve been awake all night.”

“I’m fine.”

Harry raised an eyebrow “The bags under your eyes have bags,” Harry slid further down into the bed, pulling the quilt up around him. “Get some sleep.”

Tom shrugged and looked away. Really his bags had bags, how could he possibly like someone like _Harry?_ This was insanity.

He, Tom Marvolo Riddle, did not have feelings the for brat his older self wanted dead. Said brat could never have feelings for him, either. What could Harry ever see in the man that one day kill his parents? Nothing. Perhaps pity and Tom sure as hell didn’t want Harry’s pity.

_I want him so._

It did not mean anything when Tom left the Slytherin dorms in the dead of night to sleep with Harry. Anyone in his position would do the same. Anyone.

_I love him so._

Deciding that Harry may have a point, Tom finally settled into bed and Harry instantly rolled into his side, snuggling up next to him. Tom’s heart skipped a beat.

Potter was so…loving. So, accepting. Tom didn’t deserve him.

“Goodnight, Tom.” Harry’s voice was filled with sleep, his green eyes closed.

“Goodnight, Harry.” Tom wrapped his arms around the younger man and buried his face to the mass of messy black hair. “I love you.”


End file.
